


Matchstick

by redux (sian22)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: How Green was My Valley?, M/M, Movie Night, Nicknames, bucky forgets sometimes, cuddling on the couch, did deserve its oscar :), happy fluff, pre or post?, tony won't give up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 06:53:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5858689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sian22/pseuds/redux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony may be the official keeper and bestower of the nicknames but there is one for Cap he does not know.  Pre-serum..  Or in which Bucky's memory is a little like swiss-cheese.  It has holes in very random places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matchstick

Of course it is Tony who is the keeper of the names.

‘Cap’.  ‘Steve’, ‘Stevie’.   ‘Nomad’ for a time.     ‘Star-Spangled Avenger’ can still make him cringe, almost as much as the grainy, jittery old newsreels. 

Tony is maker of them too when the mood is on.   ‘Stars ‘n Stripes’, ‘Capsicle’,  ‘We the People’, ‘Apple Pie’, ‘Baseball’, ‘Fossil’.  All of ‘em make sorta sense.  He is a ‘National Treasure’ after all, born on Independence Day and, technically, nearly 94 years old.     Quite where ‘Winghead’ comes from is anybody’s guess.   

‘Dorito’ inexplicably makes him blush…

‘Punk’ they have all adopted from Barnes with outright glee because _now,_ in post-Serum Dorito form, it is just so fucking ridiculous.   

They don’t know all the names because some are hidden, some are just for _him_. 

‘Grant’ is the name that Bucky whispers across a crowded room and he _hears_.  No matter the noise, no matter what the super ears are trained on.  It makes him shiver and feel a sweet delicious heat thrum through his blood because Buck is the only one who ever uses it.  And then only at certain times. 

 ‘ _Come ‘_ on _Sugar.’_  is groaned, breathless, hoarse and yearning hard,  when they are both about to fall over the precipice of bliss. 

Bucky is not known to spill intel, but one day he just kinda _slips_.   They are all hanging in the lounge, chilling out after a particularly fraught few days and Steve has finally convinced a skeptical Clint to watch “How Green was my Valley”.     Cap’s fave.  All struggle and dignity, hopeful resolution and close-knit family. 

The very thought of it makes Clint’s teeth start to hurt.

“Nothing shoulda beat Citizen Kane,”  Barton grouses, but flops to the floor anyway,  cross-legged, popcorn bowl in hand.

“You’ll see.”  Cap smiles and even Tony settles in, because hey, after a shawarma and shower,  a little movie schmaltz might just be the trick.

“Matchstick?”  Buck’s whisper wasn’t meant to carry but the swelling soundtrack has dropped low and slow.  “I don’t remember Roddy McDowell in this? And where is Lizzie Taylor?” 

“Shhh.”  Cap’s fingers idly stroking along his hair drop down and press lightly on his lips.  James’ memory may be back but it is a little like swiss cheese.  It has holes.  In very random places.   

“S’nt ‘White Cliffs of Dover’ Buck.  Later, that was later.” 

Four sets of eyes are suddenly trained, laser-style, on the pair not-quite canoodling on the couch. 

 _“_ Matchstick??”   Tony asks, hitting the pause button on his latest fancy pad, raising an eyebrow to the nose-bleed seats. _“_ What is _that_?”

“Hey!”  Steve exclaims.  They might lose the feed.  He struggles, gently, out of the metal arm and grabs desperately for the shiny toy.  It is whisked away before he can quite reach _._

 _“_ Oh-ho.  No. No. No. Not until you spill what it means _.”_ Tony’s glee is so sharp it could make vinegar taste like wine.  Over by the console, Sam is nearly horizontal in a van der Rohe ~~torture~~ modern chair and grinning a white flash of teeth.  Nat is curious _and_ amused.  Clint can tell by the way she has pulled out of her Angle pose, but he still frowns, a mirror to Rogers’ own. _Damn it was just getting good._

Steve runs his fingers through his still wet, dark blond waves and gives his partner a fondly exasperated look. Was it the old time soundtrack vibe?   The lazy heat lingering from the double, soapy shower?  Something slipped Bucky’s head into pre-serum mode but jesus there is no stopping Tony-have-to-know-everything now.   He’s a horse with the bit in his teeth and has to run.  At least this one is ok for public use.

“Tell ‘em Buck.”

“Matchstick.”   Dark hair is flicked back off his face a little defiantly.  “Cuz he is, was, just as skinny and has even more fire in his heart.”      

Well _damn_.

 Not one of them, even Tony, can argue with that logic.  

 “Ok.”  

They all turn back to the giant screen.  Clint shoots popcorn with perfect aim up into the ceiling light at random intervals.  Steve settles Bucky underneath his chin. 

Before the end Gwilym Morgan gives his life for a cause he believes with all his might.

Every one of them feels it in their super, enhanced or better-than-the-average bones.

**Author's Note:**

> The nicknames 'We the People', 'Apple Pie', 'Baseball', are my head canon set by SchyzotypalX's hilarious 'Out on the town' Go..read that brilliant fic, here at AO3 :)


End file.
